


Unprofessional

by Oundines



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, F/M, Mutual Pining, Slow Burn, Solavellan, Teacher-Student Relationship, maybe smut later idk, not another professor solas au, professor solas
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-10
Updated: 2018-02-22
Packaged: 2019-03-16 05:34:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13629717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oundines/pseuds/Oundines
Summary: Ellana Lavellan enrolls to be a TA in the highly coveted work study program at the University of Ferelden. Her favorite Professor, an enigmatic elf named Solas, may have something to do with her decision. He may also have some objections.After all, they remind themselves, they must remain professional.





	1. Weak

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Compare and Contrast](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13586757) by [Oundines](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oundines/pseuds/Oundines). 



To say that the University of Ferelden campus was beautiful would be a horrific understatement. It was divine. Between its high-ceilinged oaken libraries with cozy corners, and tree lined quads branching from lecture halls to dormitories, UF seemed more like an ancient Elvhen city than a school. And of course, the irony of the architecture was not lost on Ellana; the way the arches tapered at the top, the elegant curves and subtle intricacies that differentiated her people’s style from the gaudiness of Orlais, or the usual rustic simplicity of Ferelden. Ironic, considering that less than a hundred elf students had been accepted by the school in the past two years, and an even smaller number of those elves were Dalish. She could wonder for hours if the resulting beauty of campus was due to stolen heritage, like most splashes of her history were in modern day Thedas, or the work of mischievous elvhen engineers who snuck it in as a big “screw you” to their human employers. Regardless, Ellana couldn’t help but feel a pang of longing to see the halls filled with ears like hers, faces adorned with traditional markings (like hers), those that truly seemed to belong in such a place…

Shaking her head of such thoughts, the elf turned her attention back to the book in front of her, a dry rehashing of some conflict that happened somewhere at one time, a subject that _should_ otherwise be fascinating…. had a more adept author penned it. Alas, it instead left her mind drifting and eyes wandering to more interesting subjects. Namely, the professor that had assigned the very text she struggled to finish.

He was sitting behind his desk, as usual, frowning at a pile of assignments. She had teased him that if he continued to scowl as often as he did, the dimple between his brows would become permanent; that had earned her a soft chuckle and more relaxed visage for the remainder of the visit. Now however, his expression was as perturbed as she had ever seen it, and Ellana couldn’t help but wonder what on _earth_ a student could have written to elicit such an annoyed look.

 

_Solas._

 

That was his name, though she only dared use it when alone, those moments when “Professor” sounded far too formal and “Ha'hren” inappropriate for the conversation. “Mister” didn’t suit him, “Sir” had made him scoff, and when asked if he had a clan name to go by his eyebrows had risen so far up at the notion she had feared they may pop off. And so, he was “Solas”. Just Solas. However, there were a few titles Ellana had assigned to him in the privacy of her own mind; Solas the Serious, Solas the Skeptical, Solas the Sarcastic. It was anyone’s guess which version she would be speaking to whenever she stopped by his office. The most amusing was Solas the Sassy, who only made appearances at particularly relaxed moments, and wasn’t to be confused with Solas the Smug. He would surely take offense to that particular epithet, and Ellana stifled a laugh imagining his indignation if he knew how she thought of him.

 

And oh. She thought of him often.

 

Not on purpose, of course. Purposefully would be the way she stared at the University’s favorite rugby star, a tall blonde boy named Cullen, who seemed to be filled with warm laughter and sunshine. There was purpose in the way she flirted with him as they studied together, purpose in her decisions to bring him water during practice, purpose in the way she thought of the muscles underneath his hoodies and jerseys, purpose in her fantasies of them stealing kisses beneath bleachers…

There was no purpose when those thoughts inexplicably morphed the young, handsome, Cullen into the older, angular, History Professor.

And they always did, the fantasy of bleachers and kisses turned to bookshelves and far less innocent gestures. It drove Ellana crazy, this little crush of hers. It shouldn’t even exist, and she tried to convince herself it didn’t make sense in the first place, but of _course_ that did very little to dissuade her when she was curled up in the corner of his office, watching him discreetly over the pages of her books. His hands always seemed to move with purpose, long fingers flipping through papers, tracing sentences, reaching for his mug of coffee without so much as a sideways look. Those steely blue eyes were behind brown frames, as they always were when he worked, but every once in a while they would glance up and meet her green ones, and she’d have to quickly avert her attention towards the pages of boredom with an expression of extreme interest. His gaze was piercing.Intimidating, even, the way he would make direct eye contact with anyone who spoke to him, ever earnest in conversation. He wasn’t a favorite among students, not by a long shot, but he was respected, and his courses were highly sought after.

Ellana snuck another look, noting the way he scratched at his shaved head, and wondered if he even realized that dark stubble was beginning to appear- had he always gone without hair, or did he perhaps have black locks at some point? Her curiosity was never quite satiated when it came to Solas, whos history remained elusive. Interviews in scholarly magazines and publications touched very little on his personal life, and she had felt so silly trying to research him online that further digging had been abandoned. In-person questions only ended in frustration on her end, and an amused half-smile on his; the ever insufferable ‘Solas the Smirking’.

She knew he painted- his work was displayed around his office, beautiful colors and scenes from ancient Elvhen history, his forte when it came to Thedosian history. She knew he was an elf, but clearly unaffiliated with the Dalish (he seemed to openly scorn them, in fact), and he seemed unlike any city elf she had met. She knew he spent weekends assisting museums, and even then, that was only due to Ellana being invited on an excavation of Elvhen ruins- an invitation that was extended to many of her classmates as well.

 

“Is there something you wish to say, Ellana?”

 

She was snapped from her thoughts at the sound of his voice, heat already creeping to her cheeks as she realized he had caught her staring. Solas’ eyebrows were raised, glasses off, chin resting on his hand as he awaited her answer with an amused expression.

 

“Ah.. well I…” Ellana dropped her book into her lap, trying not to seem too flustered as she wracked her brain for a suitable answer, “I was thinking about applying for your TA position next semester.” Well, at least that wasn’t a lie.

 

“... Oh?”

 

“I’ve just- I’ve really enjoyed your courses,” she spoke quickly, trying not to lose her nerve, “and with only a year left until graduation, I really could use the work study.”

 

“Are you not a literature major? I would think that assisting Professor Flemeth would be of far more interest to you.”

 

“Well, yes, but I sort of… maxed out the amount of history classes the school permits me to take,” Ellana tugged at her braid, sheepish, “and I still have classes left with Flemeth so I… I thought I would rather work with you. Because your classes are so fascinating.” she added as an afterthought.

 

He seemed to study her for a moment, though it felt like forever as she tried to keep herself from squirming. Finally, Solas stood, his deep voice clear and slow as he walked to the door, holding it open in a blatant indication her time spent there was over, “Well, if you submit your application I will certainly put in a good word with the administrators. You have done outstanding in my classes, Ellana, I’m sure you would be a valuable aide. But for now, I believe it is almost time for your next lesson…?”

Her things were already shoved into her satchel, bland textbook and all as she hurried out the door, turning to give him a smile, and hoping he didn’t catch the way her ears burned.

 

“Thank you, thank you so much, Ha'hren! I’ll be sure to submit my application right away!” she hesitated, “Do... you mind if I come back tomorrow? I have some studying to do for final exams and you _know_ how crowded the library is this time of year…”

 

“Yes, Ellana, you’re welcome to use my office anytime.”

 

A grin, a wave, and she was running off toward _Ferelden and Fiction_ , heart rate elevated before her feet even moved. She wasn’t truly in a hurry, that class didn’t begin for another thirty minutes, but if she lingered she might do something stupid, like hug him (again!) or- gods forbid, kiss his cheek like she was tempted to when he praised her. No, Ellana would much rather spare herself the humiliation, thank you very much. And she was sure Solas would prefer a Teacher’s Aide that _didn’t_ sexually harass him.

She slowed down as she turned the corner, gnawing at her lip as she passed full and empty classrooms alike. Maybe it wasn’t a good idea, working with Solas after the summer ended… It certainly wouldn’t help her get over this ridiculous fascination, and the distraction he provided was beginning to affect her brain. It barely seemed to work at this point, beyond occasionally stuttering out nonsense and daydreaming at the most inappropriate times. But ultimately, Ellana was weak, and if she was to have only one more year of nonsense and daydreams then she was certainly going to take it.

Her crumpled application was retrieved from the depths of her satchel as she stepped out into the warm afternoon, smoothing it briefly and beginning the walk to the administration building. The sky was overcast despite the heat, but the trees were rattling their branches together, showing off the newly acquired greenery in preparation for sunnier months. Students were lounging on benches, she waved at Sera as she passed her friend dallying in the shade with yet ANOTHER girl (how many did she meet a week?!), no doubt skipping classes. Summer was going to feel much too long, away from the atmosphere of university, the beautiful Elvhen-esque buildings, and with the possibility of a new job to look forward to… well, she would just have to make herself busy to pass the time.

 

* * *

 

 

Fuck.

 

Solas closed the door to his office behind her, leaning his head against it as he squeezed his eyes shut.

 

Fuck.

 

He should have said no. He should have claimed it impossible. He should have dashed the girl’s hopes before she had even asked, even tempted him with it- but he was weak. This he knew. He was weak when she stayed after that first class, filled with questions that he had the answers to. He was weak when she visited him in his office the first time, the request for research materials becoming a full two hours of discussion. He was weak when she asked to use the same office for reading, “just this once!” she had promised him, and Solas laughed shakily at the memory. Just once! Ha! Ellana has been plaguing him with her presence nearly everyday since, curling up in his armchair, demanding his attention, stealing what she must have thought to be subtle looks, driving him mad...

And he encouraged it. Not outright, gods no, but he allowed her to come and go as she pleased, let her initiate debates and conversations he knew would keep her far too long, he… he emboldened her to work for him! A hand came to rub his mouth as he realized precisely what that meant, the hours they would be required to spend together, preparing classes and lectures, grading, talking, laughing, smiling, touching-

 

No.

 

_No._

 

Solas stormed to his desk, reaching for the phone. He would call the office immediately, he would tell them… tell them what? That they must not, under any circumstances, allow one of the top ranked students to apply for a coveted work study program? She would never accept that, not Ellana, proud Ellana, _Dalish_ Ellana. And oh, how wonderful _that_ would look for the University- denying an elf an opportunity for mysterious reasons? It would never go over well. The phone dropped back to its dock and he sank into his chair, feeling feverish, and hating himself all over again.

It was a never ending cycle of self-loathing. She would whisk in and out of his classes, his office, encouraging the very worst of every terrible thought he ever had to the forefront. He would wonder how much he could get away with… perhaps he could touch her hand when he handed back papers? Or brush red strands from her face when she inevitably fell asleep in that big, round armchair Solas darent touch since she claimed it… And then she was gone again and he was left alone, alone and ashamed of himself. He knew better. She thought him to be appropriate and professional, her Ha'hren, her confidant, but he knew better.

 

“FUCK!”

 

His fist slammed on the desk, sending a few loose papers to the floor just as the phone rang, and his heart went to his throat. He knew that would be the administrative offices. He knew what they would say. He knew what they would ask, _who_ they would ask about.

 

Solas knew precisely what he would tell them. And he hated himself for it.

 

Fuck.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> " _Another_ Professor!Solas au?" you gasp  
>  yes. another one. there needs to be more.  
> I hope you enjoy! I'm not yet sure exactly where this is going, so let's figure it out together!


	2. Inebriated

Ellana was NOT drunk. Inebriated? Perhaps, and yes there _was_ a difference, she insisted to a thoroughly amused Josie.

 

“Oh really? What _is_ the difference, Ellana?” her friend’s accent was particularly difficult to decipher after a few drinks, the way she slurred her ‘r’s together and lilted the ends of sentences made Ellana’s addled brain struggle to comprehend the sounds as words. Currently, she could have sworn Josephine was singing an Orlesian ballad, not teasing her over their third round of sweet honeyed mead.

 

“The difference is…” she paused, frowning down at her glass as if it should be the one explaining, “The difference _is_ , if I were drunk, I would be doing something stupid right now. I’m not doing anything stupid, therefor, I’m not drunk! Just… inebriated.”

 

“That sounded pretty fucking stupid to me.” Sera slammed a tray of shots down on their table, returning from her adventure inside the bar just in time to hear the logic of drunk- no, _inebriated_ \- Lavellan.

 

Ellana stuck her tongue out, ignoring the other elf and her more-than-likely lethal concoctions in favor of looking down at her phone again. The hot Ferelden summer was in full swing when she had gotten the email. The words swam in front of her, but the important parts from when she had read it that morning stood out; _“Congratulations… accepted as a Teacher’s Assistant for the upcoming semester… Assigned to_ Elvhen Culture and History, Ages of Thedas, _and_ The Rise and Fall of The Dales... _Instructor: Solas…”_

Instructor: Solas.

Solas.

 

_Solas._

 

His name brought back her crush in full force. She was far too smashed for him to invade her thoughts like this! But he did anyway. What did he do during the summers? Work at the museum? Travel? Bar hop? The very suggestion of Solas entering a bar made her giggle, and earned her a flick on the ear from Sera, who thrust a suspicious shot glass into her hands.

 

“Oi! Pay attention, you! You’re the one who said we needed to celebrate your boring job or whatever!”

 

“It’s not boring!” Ellana rubbed her ear, cheeks burning, “It’s… it’s a fantastic opportunity to-”

 

“Yeah yeah, you and your elfy teacher will talk about elfy things before stealing elfy snogs or whatever it is elfy elfs do instead of sex.”

 

“ _Sera!_ ”

 

“Drink up Josie!” Sera cheerfully shoved a shot under Josephine’s horrified expression, continuing, “What’s so special about this assistant stuff, again?”

 

“You cannot just insinuate that a teacher and student would-”

 

“Hey! Drink first! Yell after!” Sera’s expression was almost giddy as the two other girls downed their glasses. The burning sensation in her throat was immediate, making Ellana’s eyes widen and water with discomfort, and threatening to cause her to lose her dinner. Josie seemed to be struggling with a similar reaction, coughing and sputtering. Ellana glared at their cackling ‘friend’, accusation in her eyes.

 

“Oh my Gods- Sera, what...?!”

 

“Dragon’s Piss!” the blonde elf knocked back her own cocktail easily, wiping the back of her hand over her mouth, “Bloody tasty, yeah?”

 

Josephine’s voice was a rasp of its former self, “Sera, you can’t just… insinuate-” another cough, and she continued, “Professor Solas is… _Ellana_ is… you cannot spread those kind of rumors!” she scolded, looking scandalized, “That’s how reputations are ruined, and Ellana would never-”

 

“Of course she would! You’ve heard her carry on, she’s obsessed with the bald prick!” It was Ellana’s turn to be scandalized, a blush spreading beneath her vallaslin.

 

“I am not- I am not _obsessed_! And he isn’t a prick!”

 

“Whatever, his classes are boring as hell.”

 

“They aren’t!”

 

Sera shrugged and chugged the rest of her mead, unperturbed by the tense atmosphere. Ellana leaned in her chair, feeling dizzy, certainly the work of that ‘Dragon’s Piss’. It was a hot night, but dry, unlike the humidity of home, and she suddenly wished they had chosen a cozier spot to celebrate. The bar they settled on was far too crowded, the terrace they occupied filled with other young adults who had nothing better to do than to get drunk every night that they were free from the obligations of classes. An amazing number of students chose to stay in the city over break, and Ellana couldn’t blame them, having made the same choice for herself. It was lively, interesting, and far preferable to the boring reservation life of a Dalish. She felt ashamed of herself for thinking so, for only visiting home in brief weeks out of the year, but she couldn’t help but be enticed by the bustle that the college town offered.

At this point, she was uncertain if she would ever go back permanently. With a sigh, she nursed her drink, wondering just what she planned to do when she graduated. Her parents and Deshanna were expecting her to return to the clan, but what was the use of her degree in that case? The more she thought about going back, the more she dreaded it. She belonged here, surrounded by history and friends and a life that wasn’t stagnant. And after this year…

 

After this year there would be no more history classes.

 

Ellana sat upright with a sudden jerk, startling Josephine out of a similar daze.

 

“I… may in fact be drunk now.”

 

“What clued you in?” Sera snorted, eyeing a pretty dark haired girl working at the bar.

 

“I was about to do something… stupid.” she admitted, shoving her phone, emails and all, into her jeans pocket. The last thing she needed was to send a sloppy ‘thank you’ message to her Ha’hren. And that was the _best_ case scenario. “We should go-”

 

“Yes! Agreed!” Josephine was already gathering her things, just as wobbly as Ellana felt.

 

“What? No! But I was just…” Sera looked between her friends and the bartender in apparent frustration, finally deciding to slide an arm under Josie in support with a pout, “Fine, fine, I’ll help you two lightweights home, but you owe me one!”

 

The apartments weren’t far, all walking distance from each other and most nightlife, but Ellana’s feet still ached by the time she was fumbling to fit her keys into the lock. Sera was adjusting her grip on a nearly incoherent Josephine, grumbling something about ‘busty wenches’.

 

“Are you sure you’re alright to take her home?” she nodded at Josie, who was all but sleeping on her feet.

 

“Yeah, she’s not heavy, and you’re useless enough as it is,” the blonde looked pointedly at the still locked door, “besides, she lives closer anyway, I’d have to walk you all the way back here afterward which makes NO sense at all and- nevermind. Just go get some sleep, yeah?” Josie raised a hand in farewell, her smile weak as Sera dragged her back down the hall, and Ellana had to hold in a laugh as she finally made it into her apartment.

She dropped her bag to the floor, kicking the door closed behind her. It was dark, but that doesn’t stop her from tripping over herself towards her room, not bothering to turn on any lights along the way. With a sigh, she collapsed onto her bed, the cushy comforter more heavenly than anything on earth in that moment. Shoes. She still had on her shoes.

First kick off the left, now the right, socks were next- jeans. She hated sleeping in jeans. But when Ellana reached to squirm out of them, her hand brushed her phone, and the impulse to email Solas came back with a vengeance. She shouldn’t… but she really _should._ He was the reason she had gotten the position, after all. What sort of Da’len would she be if she did not thank him…?

In a moment, the screen was unlocked, the light on her face made her squint as she typed his address in, thumbs hovering over the keyboard while she gnawed on her lip. What would she even say?

It shouldn’t be too long, that left room for error. And in her current state, there _would_ be error. But if it were too short, there was little purpose in not just waiting until the start of term to thank him in person. That wouldn’t do at all. Further, how to address him? Professor? Solas? Ha’hren? Being too informal wouldn’t be appropriate considering they were to be working together, but she couldn’t resist the chance to be a familiar with him- yes, Ha’hren would do.

In the end, it took her an embarrassingly long time to compose the message. Sentences were deleted and added, then deleted again only for her to type the same thing as before, until at last she settled on something short, to the point, and sweet enough to get her excitement across without being unprofessional. Ellana smiled, tapping ‘send’ as she kicked off her pants and curled up over the covers.

 

She must have been far more exhausted than she realized, as in moments, she was asleep.

 

And then it was morning.

 

A groan confirmed to Ellana that yes, she _was_ alive, despite Sera’s best efforts to murder her via alcohol poisoning (honestly, what _were_ in those shots?!) and she buried her head beneath the pillows, tongue dry, head pounding, light burning… she felt like a darkspawn from Thedosian myth, dragged from its hole quite unceremoniously.

Coffee. She needed coffee.

She sat up on her bed, regretting the action immediately. Her auburn hair had escaped its braid at some point during the night, curls falling into her face and being a general nuisance as her feet lowered to the plush carpet. Standing was miraculously easier than anticipated. She padded to the kitchen, catching a glimpse of herself in the mirror as she did.

Gods, she _looked_ like darkspawn!

Her hair was a mess, makeup smudged beneath tired eyes, and that smell was probably coming from her underarms, wasn’t it? She wrinkled her nose, deciding a shower was in order, then of course Ellana would need to become a functioning member of society and carry out a day of errands, groceries were needed, she had to call the school and ascertain if they required further paperwork, she had to email Solas-

A hand pressed to her mouth in horror. But she had done that already, hadn’t she? Faster than should have been possible with the state she was in, Ellana was beside her bed once more, phone snatched up off the blankets as she scrolled to find the evidence of her crime. And there is was, the offending piece of mail was less innocent in the sobriety of morning, but relief flooded her body- it wasn’t nearly as bad as she had assumed.

 

_To: solas.history@ufc.edu_

_From: llanalavell@dalemail.com_

_Subject: Thank you!!!!_

_sent thurs at 1:16 am_

 

_Ha’hren,_

_The confirmation arrived today! Thank you so much for your recommendation, I’m not certain I would have been selected had you not put in a good word for me. The summer cannot be over quickly enough, let me know if there are any course materials I should prepare for you ahead of time!_

_I look forward to our classes. I miss them! My day feels empty without a lecture on Halam’shirel!_

_We should celebrate together before term begins again- I would like to further discuss the syllabus for each class and the responsibilities you would have me fulfill in person._

_I hope you are enjoying your summer._

_Your Assistant,_

_Ellana Lavellan_

 

 

There were a few sentences that she would have left out; namely, all the ones that revealed her eagerness to see him again (or, rather, his ‘classes’). So most of it, really. But the damage was done, and it wasn’t catastrophic. Ellana would live to embarrass herself another day.

 

But first? Coffee.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ellana drunkenly trying to compose an email sounds suspiciously like me trying to write this chapter. And I'm still not happy with it!
> 
> Luckily, Solas returns next chapter and he always makes things a bit more fun


	3. Control

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy late Valentine's Day! Thank you for all your wonderful comments, it makes it so easy to keep writing. <3

 Several days passed before Solas sent a reply. To be fair, he had been in a remote forest excavating newly discovered Elvhen graves when the email was initially received, and the cellphone service HAD been dreadful...

But even after his return to the city, the message sat in his inbox. He shuffled through his apartment, writing articles, going over already prepared course materials, but he would find himself rereading it in his spare time. It was warm, if a bit different from the usual tone present in Ellana’s past papers and emails, and he wondered if the change was a result of their new work relationship. Or perhaps, he had imagined the subtle divergence entirely. Perhaps he was creating fanciful situations in his mind, and there was nothing there to analyze in the first place. Perhaps Ellana was only excited, as stated. He couldn’t ignore the timestamp, however, and wondered what she had been doing so late at night, thinking of him…

His thumb traced over the screen, reading his favorite phrases out of their context and imagining new meanings behind them.

 _“_ ... _I should prepare for you...”_ was not referencing a syllabus, in this case.

 _“I miss-”_ you. In another world, that had read as “I miss you”.

 _“We should celebrate together”_ required no mental editing. It was fine as is, and the Solas very much grounded in the real world was tempted by the invitation. For work purposes, of course.

 

He was also sorely tempted to throw the infernal cell phone out the damn window.

 

The tall elf paced his living room, glancing out into the street as he passed, and clutched the mobile. It was getting dark out, but that rarely quelled the groups of people bustling through the city. The moon had already risen above the trees that amazingly stretched tall, even as buildings and other urban installations were built around them. Not as tall as the trees in the Emerald Graves National Park, of course, which towered over and resisted the modern world even after centuries of pushback from Orlesian Nobles. They would have loved to get their hands on the land, bulldozing and digging up history, _Elvhen_ history. Solas wished he was back amongst the trees now, finding those relics, without bureaucrats and internet to bother him.

He was a coward. As many excuses as Solas created for not responding, he had gotten himself into this mess. And he would have to take responsibility. This girl had him at her mercy. And she wasn’t even aware of how she effected him! With an incredulous laugh, the elf was tapping the “reply” button for what seemed like the hundredth time, dropping into his armchair. He would _have_ to answer. And he would have to do so while holding back every word of teasing and flirtation that he burned to enact. His gut felt fire, when he thought of Ellana’s reaction to what he would say to her, that blush, the way she would squirm and avert her gaze-

 

No. He was firm with himself. No, he would be professional. And he would otherwise stay far, far away from Ellana, outside of the obligations of her job. Solas refused to be a slave to his infatuation, and he would maintain control. He reread his response quickly, nodding his head in approval as he pressed send.

* * *

 

_Miss Lavellan,_

 

_Congratulations on the position, I am sure you will be an excellent assistant. As you are aware, my classes are not easy, and I will expect a certain amount of responsibility from you so you may keep up with the workload. I have attached a copy of the syllabus for all three courses._

 

_There will be no need to meet before term begins._

 

_Professor Solas_

* * *

 

Their further communication was brief, Ellana noted, her own messages returning to a tone that was bit more familiar and a bit less personal. Her questions went quickly answered, no correspondence ever taking as long as his first email and she wondered once more what Solas did with his Summer. Her new rule, no drinking and emailing, was strictly enforced, and the days began to blur together in preparation for her last year of University. Books needed buying, pens and notebooks too, and the constant errands she ran kept her from dwelling too long on Solas.

Only a few weeks left now. She sighed wistfully, glancing down at her phone as she stood in line for coffee, surrounded by the chatter and laziness the last days of vacation encouraged. The gold of the late afternoon sun tickled her neck, it’s warmth surprisingly pleasant compared with the blazing heat that had haunted her earlier in the season. Underneath the freckles and Vallaslin, there was still a bit of pink. A souvenir from a camping trip the month before, a semi-permanent blush that was another month away from fading.

There was so much left to do. Her fingers scrolled through emails and notes alike, taking a step forward in line without glancing up. She would need to make some calls to the office and make sure her financial aid paperwork went through okay. Josephine was expecting them to meet up and discuss their graduation requirements, since they would be finishing the same program in the Spring… Oh and Leliana was expecting her to call, she would be-

 

Ellana gasped loudly, so immersed in her phone and thoughts that she had walked directly into another customer at the shop, hot coffee spilling onto her legs and staining the white jeans she had chosen to wear that day. Searing heat made her hop on the spot and step back from the poor man she had victimized with her obliviousness, and they spoke simultaneous apologies;

 _“_ Oh my gods I am so sorry-”

“Fenedhis- are you alright-?!”

“I wasn’t looking, I can pay you for-”

“Ellana?”

She blinked up at the tall elf, a smile coming to her face despite herself. His brow was furrowed, that much hadn’t changed since they last saw each other, but concern was evident in his expression. His eyes were on hers, intense as ever, pale and deep, and she sucked in a breath, noting that her teacher was wearing a light scarf, despite the season. He did love scarves. He reached out a hand as if to steady her, and she was jerked back to the present just as he seemed to decide otherwise, dropping his arm. Ah. Right. Burning, searing, awful, hot, hot pain. The baristas behind the counter were already rushing to replace the drink, one of them emerging from the back with a mop and bright yellow sign in hand, other customers carefully stepping over the puddle, and Ellana shifted, trying to alleviate her thighs.

 

“Ah… Professor! Solas! I ah…” She gestured sheepishly, aware that her face was now warm with more than just a sunburn. Her pants were soaked, probably stained forever. “I was… I’m so sorry, I really should pay better attention, I-”

 

“No, no it was my fault. I was also…” Solas held up a black screen, expression turning to an almost amused quirk in his lips, “I must not be a very good Ha’hren, if my Da’len is taking after my terrible habits. Texting and walking, Ellana?”

 

“Not texting!” she insisted, glad to accept a cold cloth from the dwarven barista that offered it as the both of them stepped back into line, “Working!”

 

“Working!” He chuckled, shaking his head, and Ellana couldn’t help but notice he seemed tanner. Unexpected, with his pale complexion she had imagined him to burn worse than she did, but there was no mistaking the smooth, even glow that now graced his skin. So the shut-in, book-worm Professor DID go outside.

 

“Yes, working! I have a lot to do you know!”

 

“Before classes have even begun? Shouldn’t you be taking advantage of these last weeks of ‘freedom’, or have you already overbooked yourself?”

 

“Nothing I can’t handle.”

 

“I’m almost positive there are very few thing in this world outside of your capabilities, Da’len.” he looked at her again, and she felt her ears twitch, “However, nothing good comes from fatigue. I’d offer to reduce the amount of classes you assist me with if I thought you would even consider it.”

 

“I wouldn’t!”

 

“I know.” he glanced down at where she was pressing the makeshift compress to her legs, and Ellana was hyper aware of her ridiculous pose, making her look like she desperately had to pee. If Solas thought the same, he didn’t voice it, instead looking concerned once more.

 

“It doesn’t hurt anymore, at least,” she offered.

 

“Don’t lie for my benefit, Da’len. It will only make me feel more guilty.”

 

“It was my fault though!”

 

“Nonsense. We are equal in blame, and you’re the only one with minor burns to show for it. I believe I’m entitled to carry a certain amount of guilt. What are you drinking?”

 

“What-? I said I would pay fo-”

 

“And I am not allowing it.” they reached the counter, the replacement for his lost beverage already beside the register, “I can order for you, but I’m afraid my taste is a bit too sweet for most.”

 

She wavered back and forth, reaching to tug at her braid before finally relenting, “A Lotus Latte, please.”

He paid, apologizing to the workers for the mess as he did, who assured them it happened ‘all the time’. It was only when the two elves had sat down at a table together, drinks in hand, that Ellana realized neither of them intended to cut their surprise meeting short. It made her jittery, leg bouncing on her chair as she wracked her brain for something to say.

 

“Are they completely ruined?”

 

“Sorry?”

 

“Your pants.” Solas looked pointedly down.

 

“Ah… no it isn’t- don’t worry about that!” she leaned forward on her elbows, the cup in front of her still too hot to sip from, though it filled her senses with her favorite smell. Coffee. Yum.

 

“I _am_ worrying about ‘that’. Wet jeans are hardly comfortable to move in, I can buy you a replacement pair so you don’t have to travel with-”

 

“Oh I have nowhere to be!” she said it a bit too fast, and Solas’ eyebrows raised, “I mean… not for a while. I can go home and change before that.”

 

He didn’t look too convinced, but seemed to accept her stubbornness as he crossed his legs, barely brushing her own with the movement, “Well, Miss Lavellan, are you looking forward to my classes? If I remember correctly, you got As in the two you already took-”

 

“ _Elvhen_ and _Dales_ , yes,” she cupped her chin with her hand, “I’m interested in what _Ages of Thedas_ will be like, I’ve never particularly cared much for the human’s version of history…

 

“Unsurprisingly.” a sip of his drink, “The Dalish believe their stories to be the absolute truth. That doesn’t leave much room for dissenting narrative.”

 

“And you think the humans’ is right, then?” it was her turn to raise an eyebrow.

 

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

 

“Then who is?”

 

“Hm?”

 

“... right, I mean. Who has the truth?”

 

Solas stifled a laugh and she regretted the question. Here he was; Solas the Smug.

 

“Da’len, you know as well as I do that any amount of ‘truth’ and ‘right’ has been lost to the ages. We only have snippets, stories, prejudiced and hypocritical points of view. The Dalish themselves hardly wrote anything down after 1030 TE, and word of mouth is fickle. All versions have been warped by time and those forming it to suit their needs.” his self-righteous smile made it difficult to not roll her eyes.

 

“Well, yes, obviously, but that hardly excuses over ten ages of mistreatment.”

 

“Of course it doesn’t _excuse_ it. In that, you are correct; mankind has been wrong. Regardless of what reasons they had to destroy The People, it will never be good enough.”

 

“Not destroy,” she reminded him for the thousandth time, finally taking a sip of her latte, “We’re still here.”

 

Solas smile became dry, “Yes, well… neither city elves nor Dalish are true, full-blooded Elvhen. They are the same, both with the amount of understanding we have of our ancestors and of the genetic similarity to-”

 

“Yes yes, the Dalish have no reason to feel special, we all have the same blood and ears, we’re just some dummies in the middle of nowhere.” she kicked him playfully under the table, and could almost swear she saw something flicker in his expression. But instead he only shook his head, exasperated but not upset at being interrupted.

 

“You never will listen to me when it concerns the Dalish, will you?”

 

“I listen! I just think you’re wrong.” a grin crossed her face, “But you’ll keep trying, right Ha’hren?”

 

“As long as there’s breath left in me, Da’len.”

 

Her toes curled in her shoes when he said that, and she elected to take a long gulp of her coffee. It wasn’t that she thought Solas wrong, as she had claimed… But it would certainly take more than a few debates for her to abandon the culture and traditions she was raised in, the things she loved and hated. Dalish and proud. They deserved visibility, respect, the rights extended to all those in Ferelden and Orlais alike. It didn’t matter if the religions and teachings themselves were exaggerated, or even fabrications, they deserved better. She cleared her throat, the cup making a mostly-hollow noise when she set it back down.

 

“So, Solas… How has your Summer been?”


End file.
